


Take Me Out to the Ball Game

by DT Maxwell (Draya)



Category: Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types, The Avengers (2012), Thor - All Media Types
Genre: #Globetrotter Loki, Community: avengerkink, Gen, Loki as a tourist
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-16
Updated: 2012-12-16
Packaged: 2017-11-21 07:30:51
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 922
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/595094
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Draya/pseuds/DT%20Maxwell
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sav would argue later that this qualified as the best baseball game ever. Nora would be scandalized and start muttering about 2004, but her best friend did treat baseball more like a religion than a pastime, so it wasn't that surprising that she'd put her first and truest love before her hormones. (Wouldn't stop Sav from teasing Nora about what she changed her laptop wallpaper to, however.)</p>
<p>Written for the tourist!Loki prompt on AvengerKink. Find many awesome mini-fills to the prompt <a href="http://avengerkink.livejournal.com/6021.html?thread=10025605#t10025605">here.</a></p>
            </blockquote>





	Take Me Out to the Ball Game

**Author's Note:**

> De-anoning at last to own up to my insanity. (I was the first to fill the prompt and I'm still asking myself what the hell.) Looking back, I'd probably change a couple of things (I let my guilty pleasure for woobie!Loki sneak in here, whoops, much as I also enjoy bag-of-cats!Loki), but what's done is done and, well, no take-backs once posted.
> 
> Honestly, this ficlet can probably be entirely blamed on my own obsessive love of baseball and the Red Sox, plus the knowledge that Tom Hiddleston apparently threw out the opening pitch at an Indians game while they were shooting _The Avengers_ in Cleveland.

First pitch wasn't for another twenty minutes and Nora was involved in her pregame ritual of sharpening the colored pencils she used to fill out the scorecard (a different color for a different play - _seriously, Nora, what the hell, you're obsessed enough about baseball, get some damn help_ ), so Savannah was entertaining herself with her own little pregame ritual: people watching.

The right-field bleachers always seemed to take forever to fill, and Sav doubted they'd get a full crowd today at Fenway: it was a 4PM game, it was overcast and threatening to rain, it was unseasonably chilly, and the Sox were playing the Blue Jays and today was mostly a matter of "who's going to be last in the division." Still, there were always a few gems in the crowd (the loud-mouthed Rays fan from last month was particularly memorable, if only because security threw him out once he started cussing midway through the fifth inning), and Savannah could never help but coo every time she saw little kids, boys and girls both, with almost-too-big jerseys and caps riding on their dads' shoulders to their seats or sneer at small gaggles of teen girls in pink hats and shirts crowded down near the bullpens. She'd been friends with Nora long enough to have some bit of fan snobbery rub off on herself, after all.

Sav was about to attempt to break Nora of her obsessive superstitious rituals for the billionth time when she spotted a flash of green and gold out of the corner of her eye. Frowning slightly, Savannah turned her head and spotted a tall, lanky man sitting further down the row, his long legs crossed and hooked over the seat in front of him as he thumbed through a program. He had feathery, shoulder-length black hair tucked neatly beneath a Sox cap (her Inner Nora was pleased to see it was a proper solid navy blue with the big red "B" on the front) and had on comfortable-looking jeans, a green long-sleeved t-shirt against the chill - and a _very_ familiar black-patterened gold scarf.

Holy _shit._

Savannah jabbed Nora in the side with an elbow. "Nora!" she hissed out of the corner of her mouth.

"Ow! Jesus, that was my kidney!" Nora said, dropping her pencils back into her bag. "What the hell, Sav?"

Sav pointed down the row. Nora obediently peered around her best friend, and her jaw dropped.

"Is that-"

"Yes."

"Wow."

"Yeah."

"...Y'know, from the suits he wears in all those other pictures, y'think he could afford a better seat."

Savannah attempted to smack Nora upside the head, but over the years her BFF had gotten better at ducking.

Still, even though she'd never say otherwise, Nora had a point. The unknown man the ladies (and gents) of Tumblr and Twitter had dubbed simply the Globetrotter had only previously been photographed in finely tailored suits (and the now-iconic black and gold scarf) at high-class establishments from his first appearance outside a charity event for survivors of the Battle of Manhatten being held in Oslo ("His _eyes,_ " the blogger who uploaded that first photo to Tumblr had said, "He just looked so sad, I had to snap a picture.") to the Museum of Natural History, the Sydney Opera House, Beijing's finest restaurant, and numerous places in between that the sharp-eyed fan-following had spotted him at. Whatever had brought the Globetrotter to Boston, if he had wanted to watch a Red Sox game, he easily could have gotten a ticket along the first-base line or on the Monster, maybe even in a sky box.

Whatever. She was not going to complain.

Sav dove into her bag, pulled out her camera, lined up her shot and zoomed in as far as she could; Nora hooked her chin over her shoulder to watch on the preview screen. Just before she pushed the button, the Globetrotter suddenly turned toward them, tilted his cap out of his green - _oh my God they weren't kidding_ \- eyes and gave them a wide, mischievous grin as the flash went off.

Sav could feel her face burning as she lowered the camera.

"Oh my God, we are such creepers," Nora whispered, her own cheeks aflame. "Did your ovaries explode?"

"Yes, we are, and yes, they did."

The Globetrotter waved at them before turning back to his program.

The two friends leaned back in their seats and exchanged looks for a long moment. Then, in a flurry of movement, Savannah popped the memory out of her camera, shoved the camera back into her bag and brought out her tablet (while ignoring Nora's loud squawk of, "You brought a _tablet_ to a _baseball_ game? You _heathen!_ "). She shoved the memory card into the port and hurriedly brought up her Tumblr account, uploading the picture with caption, "Screw the suits, he needs to do casual way more often! Also, my ovaries are wolf-whistling." She added the appropriate tags, hit upload, and then did the same on Twitter. Once that was done, she turned her tablet off, put it back in her bag, and sat ramrod straight in her seat, staring out at the field and still blushing furiously.

Nora's flush had faded and she was back to peering around Savannah with a critical eye. "Shame" could only work on Nora for so long. "You think we should go say hi?"

" _No._ "

"Okie dokie then. We'll get some beer in you and see if you change your mind."

"Nora, behave."

"Hush, you love me. Best day ever?"

"Best day ever."


End file.
